


Eleventh Hour

by kuro49



Series: thirty days of writing [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Jaeger Academy, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 08:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4739285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kaiju might be out to get the human race but Yancy is relatively sure K-Science is out to get him, and just him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eleventh Hour

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: _the 11th_.
> 
> there is nothing really overly 'cest about this, more pre-slash good ol'brotherly ribbing with a side of lingering gazes but i know how people might react so the tags are all up there for that.

Yancy Becket is a natural at everything that he has done.

So when he is left, sitting here, scratching at his head, he swears he isn’t ready to pull his hair out from their roots. The Kaiju might be out to get the human race but he is relatively sure K-Science is out to get him, and _just_ him.

“Kaiju biology is easy.” Raleigh chirps from where he is doing push ups on the ground by Yancy’s feet. He is counting each one in his head and he hasn’t stopped since Yancy began on the second chapter, and if that isn’t indication enough, the sweat making his skin glisten in the florescent lights of the room ought to do just that. “Just think of them as Godzilla.”

Yancy resolutely does not throw himself down on the surface of the table in defeat.

“Y’know that was never my thing, Rals.”

“Well, better start making it yours.” Raleigh says, coming up, and Yancy stares a little more intently than he probably should because what is that muscle definition. “K-Bio test is tomorrow morning 0800, bro.”

Yancy puts both feet up on Raleigh’s back, crossing them at the ankle and listens for that satisfying grunt the kid lets out from between his teeth at the added weight.

It’s a given he almost wakes up late.

 

“Hey Yance,” Raleigh starts and if Yancy is thinking about anything but the sheer amount of Kaiju biology he has crammed into his head in the last 24 hours, he might ask why Rals is whispering at him. “You nervous?”

“Terrified.”

“Shaky hands?”

“Just sweaty palms.” His answers are short and clipped because anything more might have the important things come tumbling out the rest of the way and he needs it all for like forty-five more minutes.

“Just think of it as the SATs.”

“That is a terrible analogy, Rals, you never even _took_ the SATs.”

The silence from his brother indicates nothing but it is five minutes to eight o’clock and the door to the classroom has just opened. Yancy almost doesn’t catch it, in the forward momentum as the small crowd that’s gathered begins to move, but running on the sheer power of adrenaline and too much bad coffee does demonstrate how far the human body can be pushed.

“Well.” Rals murmurs, too close, smile almost nervous as he wraps a hand around his older brother’s elbow so he doesn’t lose him in the sea of Ranger-hopefuls.

“Well?”

“Does it help?”

“Not at all.” But Yancy isn’t pulling away when Rals leads the two of them to adjacent chairs even as he looks to him with a scowl. 

The way the kid turns his head to smile at him in the last moment before the start of the hour, it is far more reassuring than it has any right being.

 

Yancy Becket is a natural, and Raleigh Becket has always been decent enough.

So when the two of them finally get back to their room, they toss all their worries of whether this could drop them from the Jaeger Program. The eleventh hour has passed, there is only so much to be done.

It’s all relief, here on out.

“It’s over?” Yancy’s question sounds more like a plead, and it is almost pitiful when he stumbles for their bunks.

“It’s done.” Raleigh promises with a laugh when Yancy collapses on the lower bunk and doesn’t move another inch with his flight suit unzipped halfway, boots still laced all the way up.

“Yance.” Raleigh nudges him as he sits down at the very edge, working at his own shoes. “You’re sleeping on my bed.”

He gets a groan that indicates many things, all of which points to the fact that he is not about to get his bed back for the duration of tonight and well into the next morning when the instructors come banging down the recruits’ doors. Of course, there’s the choice that Raleigh can climb above to his brother’s bunk for the night.

He can also climb in after Yancy and slot himself against his back, wrapping his arms around him in a fit that’s probably too tight.

But it’s comfortable, and the way Yancy tilts his head back is really answer enough.


End file.
